No Quarter
by IridiumRing92
Summary: Military AU. Claire Farron is one of the Army of Academia's newest recruits - under the infuriating, manipulative General Caius Ballad. At first Claire is certain he hates her, and insists the feeling is mutual. Then Claire and Caius's paths continue to cross, and Claire is forced to reconsider her feelings. And yet the war threatens to tear them apart. / CaiusxLightning. Language.
1. Taking Names

**Okay. FIRST, to those of you who are currently reading Thorns of a Rose or Role Reversal, I'm sorry this isn't that. But I had to, okay? I had to. X3 Also, I had more medical problems. I wasn't in the best shape last week.  
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**But thanks for your interest in this one too.**

**Anyway. I don't know why I keep coming back to these military AU sort of things, but you know. Imagine a city that looks a lot like Academia, only with an army. That's where this takes place. **

**I'll write about myself later! For now I'll shut up. :3**

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><p><strong>Chapter One: Taking Names<strong>

_"You."_

The young soldier gritted her teeth and lifted her eyes to the source of the voice. Naturally, it was her commanding officer. She didn't know what the hell his name was, but she could recognize him ten miles away. He wore a completely black suit of armor that showed almost no skin, save for his hands and face, and he had the longest hair of any man she'd ever met. _Not only that, but it's purple, for God's sake,_ she thought. _And he wears damn headbands. What man in his right mind does that?_

"On your feet," he said, crossing his arms.

Hell, she could attack him right now and he'd never have a chance to get his weapon out. But as far as weapons went, she didn't even have one.

"Yes, sir," she answered and stood up.

"Soldiers," her commanding officer shouted, addressing the other recruits around her, "this is exactly how to earn yourselves punishment during training. However, this one I will let off the hook because it is the first day, you understand? Anyone else will not be getting a free pass.

"And you," he said, turning back to her, "you. What is your name, anyway?"

She cocked her head to one side and glared at him. "Number 384, sir," she answered. "You just called me by that name earlier. Or don't you remember?"

He didn't flinch. "You will be spending ten minutes in solitary tonight for that answer. Now tell me, _what_ is your name?" He bent down so that they stood eye to eye, so that his nose almost brushed against hers. She could feel the cadence of his breath as he snarled, "I should like to hear a real answer this time."

She sucked in a breath and said, "Farron," and he straightened.

"Farron," he repeated. "What, Farron? Do you have a first name?"

"Do you care?" she snapped.

"I'm going to make that fifteen minutes in solitary."

The soldier closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. For a moment she fell silent. Finally she muttered, "Claire."

"Oh? Speak up," he encouraged, half a smirk surfacing on his thin lips.

"My name is Claire," she repeated.

"Soldiers, do you hear that? This is Claire Farron," her commanding officer said. His tone sounded almost gleeful, a fact that she did not let go unnoticed. "She will be spending fifteen minutes in solitary today—the _first day_ of training. I hope none of you wish to follow such an example, but if you do, please, feel free to join her."

Claire ducked her head and muttered a "yes, sir" under her breath. The other recruits said nothing.

"In the meantime," he continued, beginning to pace in front of the lines—_Oh God, _Claire thought, _now he's going to do the damn stuff all officers do, like pace in front of the lines—_"you can call me General Caius Ballad. Or, if that happens to be too hard, just 'General' is fine." He smirked.

No one spoke. The smirk faded away from General Ballad's face. "Answer me!" he demanded.

"Yes, sir," the rest of the soldiers responded dully.

"You will all do ten push-ups, in order to reconcile that lack of response," General Ballad snapped. "Go."

"Yes, sir," the soldiers replied, dropping down to the ground.

Training ended hours later, and the soldiers broke formation to walk over to the cafeteria. Claire scanned the group around her, watching the other soldiers gather together to talk in groups. She didn't have anyone to talk to, not that she minded. The silence felt relieving after the verbal beating they'd taken from General Ballad.

A breathless, dark-skinned recruit jogged up to her, interrupting her thoughts. "Whoo, it's a long run from the back of the group," she said in a heavily accented voice. "Claire, right?" She offered her hand.

Claire looked at it, confused. "What?"

"You're Claire. The General said so, didn't he?" The dark-skinned girl didn't drop her hand. "I just wanted to say congratulations. That was quite a performance."

"Okay…" Claire answered. Hesitantly, she reached out and shook the other girl's hand. "And you are?"

"I'm Fang." The girl grinned. "Oerba Yun Fang."

Claire raised an eyebrow. "That's a mouthful. Where did you get a name like that?"

"My hometown," Fang said. "It's way off in the boonies. Nothing to see out there but dust."

"I wish I had a name like that," Claire remarked. "Then when General freaking Ballad asked me what it was, he wouldn't have been able to pronounce it."

Fang laughed, a high and lilting sound. "I like you, Claire," she decided aloud. "Come on, let's go get something to eat. I'm starving."

She dragged Claire along through the line and cut a path through the crowd to an empty table. Once they'd sat down, she proceeded to glance around the cafeteria, searching the crowd. Claire watched her, confused, but Fang didn't seem to notice. She waved one arm in the air in an attempt to flag one of the other soldiers down.

Claire turned to look at who she was waving to, but the crowd surged around their table, yielding no clear target. Finally a girl with bright pink hair emerged and sat down next to Fang. "Hey! How are you, Fang?" she asked, her voice accented like Fang's, but volumes more cheerful.

"I was about to die from starvation. You?" Fang countered.

"Me too," the pink-haired girl admitted. "Who's this?" she added, gesturing to Claire.

"Oh, that's Claire, my new squad buddy," Fang said easily. "Claire, this is Vanille. She's in training to be a medic."

"Hello!" Vanille chirped. "Nice to meet you."

"Um… you too," Claire replied.

"So, Fang, Claire, how was the first day of training for you?" Vanille asked.

"Oh, I dunno. A little intense. Kind of equivalent to being hit over the head with a ruler, maybe," Fang answered with a smirk. "Claire! What do you think of General Ballad?"

"General Ballad? He's an ass," Lightning said, deadpan.

"But kind of hot." Fang squinted as though she were thinking about it.

"No _way_. Nobody that irritating could be attractive," Claire retorted. "And he has _purple hair_."

"Yeah, he does, but—" Fang caught the looks Claire and Vanille were shooting her, and she backed off, holding her hands up in front of her. "Okay, okay, sorry, I'll shut up. Jeez."

"I don't think I've ever met anyone named Ballad," Vanille remarked.

"I'm pretty sure he's new. Heard he got promoted to his position really early, like his combat skills were insane and they needed him there." Fang shrugged. "Yeah, before now I always thought generals were old."

"He's old enough," Claire snorted.

"He's only, what, twenty-two?" Fang said. "Think of that, Claire. What if it was you? And doesn't it just piss you off that he yells at you like you're a little child when really he's not that much older than you are?"

Claire considered this for a moment. "Okay, I see your point."

Fang sighed, having finished her tirade. "I'm going to eat now. Talking takes up too much energy."

After a minute of silence, Vanille looked up at Claire. "So, where are you from?" she asked. "I'm sure Fang's told you, but we're from a village called Oerba."

Claire shrugged. "She just said you were from a town covered with dust in the middle of nowhere."

"That basically sums it up," Vanille agreed. "So?"

"Um, I'm from Bodhum," Claire answered. "I'm sure you already know where that is…"

"Bodhum!" Fang exclaimed, looking up from her plate. "Like the place where they have all those fireworks?"

Claire nodded.

"Aw, not fair, not fair at all," she said, stretching her arms over her head.

"Life isn't fair, is it, Fang?" A pair of hands clamped around Fang's shoulders, startling her out of her stretch. "What are you complaining about today?"

A boy with silvery hair sat down between Claire and Vanille. He looked like he was about Vanille's age, a little younger than Claire and Fang, but not by much.

"None of your business!" Vanille said, blushing slightly and swatting him on the arm. "Why do you always drop in on our lunch conversations, anyway, Hope?"

"Because it makes you get so flustered, Vanille," Hope answered smoothly. A few seconds later a smile broke across his face. "No, it's because I like talking to you. And you're my classmate, after all."

Claire glanced between the three of them, trying to figure out what was going on. Vanille and the guy who had just appeared, also known as Hope, stared at each other while Fang watched them out of the corner of her eye. Fang broke the silence first. She cleared her throat and said, "So, how about some introductions, Hope?"

"Introductions?" Hope echoed. He turned around and saw Claire sitting behind him, and his eyes glinted with realization. "Oh. Hey, I'm Hope. Estheim. Medic-in-training, like Vanille."

"That's right, we're in the same squad," Vanille chirped.

"I'm Claire," Claire answered. "I'm training with Fang."

"Oh, so you know someone in your group. That's good," Hope answered. "Trust me, it's not fun to get stuck in a squad all by yourself."

_And with General Ballad at its head to boot,_ Claire wanted to add. "Actually, we just met today."

"Really?" Hope asked. "Well, in that case, welcome to the chaos that is this cafeteria table."

"Are there more of you?" Claire joked. "Should I watch my back?"

"Nope, it's just us," Vanille answered.

"You know, Hope," Claire pointed out, "you don't really seem like the military type."

He laughed. "That's what I always thought too. And look at Vanille—she couldn't hurt a fly. That's why she's a medic." Vanille shot him a look, and he grinned. "I started studying to be on the scientist track a while ago. Somehow I ended up here."

"It's not so bad, is it?" Fang commented.

"I'll agree. You soldiers probably have it worse than I do." He shrugged.

"Well, speaking of being soldiers, we're on a schedule," Fang told him. "We've only got a couple hours until curfew, so we should probably head toward our dormitory."

"We should, too," Vanille said. "We'll see you guys tomorrow, okay?"

"Right, see you tomorrow," Fang echoed. The four of them stood up to abandon their cafeteria table. Another group sat down seconds after they left.

Hope and Vanille disappeared into the side of the cafeteria crowd at their backs, and Fang cut a path forward for her and Claire. They walked along one wall of the cafeteria and pushed through the doors to the lobby that connected most of the buildings. The lobby, compared to the cafeteria, looked deserted and sounded almost silent.

"I'm guessing most of our squad is already back at the dormitory," Fang said. "Somebody told me there were first-week games for new squads. They always go down there to play them."

"Should be interesting," Claire said.

Fang circled the lobby until she found the door that led outside. From there, they would be able to cross a longer transportation path to their building. But when the two of them stepped outside and slid the door shut behind them, they found that they were not alone on the transportation path. A figure blocked the path and the way to the dormitory.

His lavender hair gave him away.

"Excuse me for interrupting," General Ballad said, "but I believe I must borrow Claire Farron for just a moment. She has yet to serve her fifteen minutes in solitary, you see."

"I guess I'll see you in a few minutes," Fang muttered.

"That's right. Claire," he continued, one of his gloved hands clamping around her forearm, "you'll need to come with me."

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><p><strong>I know everybody says it, but reviews are awfully nice. :D<strong>


	2. Solitude

**Wow. It's been over two months since I updated this story... I'm sorry. And I'm sorry that I have to say I'm sorry every time I post a chapter...**

**Anyway, thank you everyone for the reviews and follows! Lollll I love you guys :D Thanks for putting up with my lack of updating.**

**Also, since I listen to music all the time, the song that I listened to obsessively while I wrote the first chapter of this story was "My Blood" by Ellie Goulding.**

**And finally, disclaimer - I don't own anything pertaining to Final Fantasy XIII-2.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: Solitude<strong>

"Let go of me," Claire snapped and jerked away from her commanding officer's grasp.

At first she thought she had escaped, as he made no move to reclaim his hold on her arm, but a second later she found herself pinned against the wall, his face inches away from hers. Again.

"I am your superior," he hissed. "_I _give the orders. _You_ keep quiet."

He released her and stalked off toward the lobby. Claire rolled her eyes behind his back.

General Ballad led her through the lobby and down one of the hallways that split off from it. He looked over his shoulder at her once, but other than that he made no contact with her, no effort to make sure she followed. She wondered if he really trusted her enough not to reclaim the grip he'd had on her arm just moments ago. Or maybe it was only that he trusted she was afraid enough of what he might do if she didn't follow.

The hallway began to look darker and darker as Claire walked down it. In the lobby, the light had been nearly blinding; here, at the end of the hallway, she had to squint if she wanted to see General Ballad's silhouette in front of her. The walls felt closer, as though they had begun to close in around them. The narrow metal door at the very end of this ordeal of a hallway looked half the size of a normal door, and Claire doubted she would even be able to fit through it.

General Ballad unlocked the door and held it open for her. "This is for defying me earlier this morning, during training," he told her. "I might remind you before you go inside that you are never to talk back to an officer. You are to always follow orders. You are a soldier. A trainee, at that. This is your reward for such rash behavior."

She opened her mouth to reply—at least a "yes, sir"—but he put a hand roughly between her shoulder blades and shoved her toward the door. She stumbled into the small, dark space, and he closed the door behind her.

Claire blinked. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, but the tiny crawl space lacked even the tiniest sliver of light. She realized that in order to fit through the door, she'd had to duck, and she now stood in a half-crouch, her knees slightly bent. She straightened and immediately hit her head on the ceiling, biting back a cry at the strike of pain. She lowered herself into a sitting position.

The room wasn't even big enough to be a closet, Claire discovered as she felt her way around. Anyone bigger than her would have felt like a sardine. Hell, _she_ felt like a sardine. She couldn't even stretch her arms out to her sides; the cold walls met her hands about a foot away from her face. The walls and floors, made of stone, felt clammy and moist, making her shiver.

She wondered if the commanding officers punished everyone this way, or just General Ballad. Probably just him. She couldn't imagine this being a normal punishment for talking back to an officer, especially for the first time. She felt like these walls had begun to close in on her too, creeping steadily toward her, closing the distance. She should have just gotten off with a slap on the wrist, she reasoned. Not death in this cold stone box.

Claire began to count off the seconds to herself. Not knowing how many minutes had passed before now, she began at one. She let the numbers trail on in her head, erasing the disturbing thoughts she was beginning to have.

She had reached seven minutes when she heard a voice call out, "Time," and saw the dim light seep into the cell as General Ballad opened the door. She squinted, blinked, stared out at him. She half expected him to offer her a hand or something, but instead he just stood outside the door, arms crossed. Claire crawled out of the cell and pushed herself up to her feet. Spending barely fifteen minutes in the room had made her legs stiff; she didn't dare try to imagine how it would feel to be locked inside for an hour, or two, or more.

"How did that feel?" General Ballad asked her. "Does it make you want to speak impolitely to me again?"

She knew what she was supposed to say. "No, sir." But what she really wanted to do was tell him he was an ass and she was going to lock him in that cell herself until he died of claustrophobia.

"Good," he said. "Then, I will escort you back to your dormitory."

Claire bit back a cough. After all that, he was going to play the gentleman. Of course. She managed to keep silent as she followed him back down the dim hallway.

They turned and walked outside in the direction of the dormitories again, but this time General Ballad did not stop her from entering hers. He stopped before the transportation path leading up to the building and said, "Here you are, Claire Farron. Good night."

"Good night," she echoed through her teeth. She hated the way he said her name. He made it sound like an illness, and then he just had to tack on that "Good night" at the end—like they were old friends, or something. It only made her want to punch his smirking face even more.

Claire found Fang waiting for her in the dormitory's common room. Several of the others in their squad had gathered together in the center of the room, and it sounded to Claire like they were playing a game. Fang stood near the doorway, grinning, watching the hallway and the game at the same time. When she noticed Claire, she offered her a small wave.

"There you are, Claire," Fang greeted her. "Hey, we're playing truth or dare. You wanna join?"

"Truth or dare?" Claire echoed. She remembered games of truth or dare from back home. None of those games had ended well.

"Yeah, of course. First week game. We gotta get to know each other somehow, right?" Fang answered.

"Right," Claire muttered. Somehow she didn't think a game of truth or dare was the best way to get to know her squad members. She didn't say so.

"Fang!" someone shouted out from the common room. "In here!"

"Come on," Fang said excitedly, and dragged Claire after her into the next room.

Inside, a group of soldiers sat in a circle. They had pulled several chairs and couches into the shape so that they could face each other, and they had set a lamp in the center so that most of the room, save for their circle, was thrown into darkness. When Claire and Fang entered, their faces, lit by the lamplight, turned toward them, and Claire shrank back toward the door frame, unused to the attention.

"Who's this again?" someone asked.

"This is Claire," Fang reminded them.

"You dumbass, of course it's Claire," a voice said, probably to the person who had asked her name. The rest of the room exploded into chatter, reminding each other of the beating Claire had taken after she'd talked back to General Ballad. To her surprise, most of them sounded pleased, even approving, of her stunt.

"Okay, okay," the guy sitting at the head of the group said. He had brown hair and blue eyes. "Claire. Truth or dare?"

Claire closed her eyes. She hated games like this. Truth might make her sound like a wimp, but the question might be something she'd rather die than answer. And dare would definitely help her reputation, but she had almost no doubt it would be something she didn't want to do. Damned if she did, damned if she didn't.

"Dare," she sighed. A hiss of excitement spread through the room, and everyone turned to face the brown-haired guy.

"Okay…" he said, thinking a minute. "How about this. Go into General Ballad's office and steal his headband."

Claire rolled her eyes. "Do you _want_ me dead?" she asked. A hush fell over the room.

"I'll do it," she clarified. "But he's going to have it out for me when this is over." The chatter started up again, and Claire led the way out of the room.

The brown-haired guy jogged up to her. "Hey, I'm Noel," he said, slowing to a walk to catch his breath. "Do you know the way to General Ballad's office, or do you want a hand, Claire?"

"Well, I'm glad to say I've never been to his office, so I'll let you take the lead," Claire answered.

They walked down the path to the main building and the lobby, and Noel opened the door, allowing them inside. They crossed the lobby and walked up the stairs to the second level, where they emerged into a dark hallway housing several doors on either side. Noel walked until he found the door labeled "Ballad", and there he stopped. The group slowly came to a stop around them.

Noel tapped into the keypad next to the door, entering a few numbers. The screen flashed, and the door slid open. Claire stared at him.

"How did you do that?" she asked.

Noel shrugged a shoulder and grinned. "Oh, I have some experience with breaking into locked rooms."

"Obviously," Claire answered. "You'd think they wouldn't want to draft someone with a criminal record."

"I didn't say I had a _record_," Noel protested. "Maybe the military taught me."

"And maybe they didn't," Claire countered, striding past him into General Ballad's office.

Noel made a sound like he wanted to continue the argument, but he stopped himself, stepping back across the threshold into the hallway.

None of the others followed Claire into General Ballad's office. She felt conspicuous, walking alone in the dark room, and she got so caught up in her self-consciousness that she almost ran straight into his desk.

Which was where he had left his headband.

Claire picked it up, crushing it into her fist, and raced back out the door to rejoin her squad. When she reached them, Noel looked down at her hand. "Did you get it?" he asked, and she opened her palm to show him the purple ribbon.

"Great. Now let's run like hell." He took off down the hallway, and the rest of the group followed, whispering and laughing like little kids.

Claire followed the group back into their dormitory's common room, and as they all took their seats in the circle once again, she held up General Ballad's headband like some sort of capture-the-flag trophy. The rest of the group began to applaud. Claire found herself blushing, and she sat down.

"You know what I'd say? I'd say this is revenge," Fang said, nudging Claire with her elbow.

"Revenge," Claire agreed, staring at the swatch of purple cloth.

"Claire!" Noel called out from the other side of the room. "Since you just completed that dare, it's your turn to ask someone else."

Someone tossed him a bottle and he took a drink before handing it to Claire. She wiped the rim with her thumb, took a sip, and looked around the room. She felt a twinge of embarrassment as she realized that she didn't know anyone's name.

"Fang," she decided with a grin. "Truth or dare?"

After they ended the game for the night and began to head back to their rooms, Claire realized that she still had General Ballad's headband. She looked around for Noel, hoping to ask him what to do with it, but he had already disappeared. Reluctantly, she decided that the best place for it would probably be in her dorm room, at least until she could somehow sneak back into General Ballad's office and return it to him. She wrapped it up in her fist again and shrugged. Her head felt a little fuzzy, and she couldn't bring herself to care much about anything.

"Claire," Fang shouted from the foot of the stairs. "Come on."

With a sigh, Claire began the trek up the stairs to her room, the cloth peeking ever so slightly through her fingers.


End file.
